make peace with your broken pieces
Her head's already shaking as she rises to her feet, gripping his hand like a lifeline between her strengthening fingers. "It's not the same," she murmurs fervently, the wheels of her brain still turning slowly as the last of the cobwebs and grime falls away. "I had other water, before, and nothing happened. This is different, somehow."
The canteen has fallen by the wayside in her urgent recovery; now as she stoops to pick it up she can feel her stomach sinking. "I... there isn't," the Shield murmurs, closing her eyes as guilt and anger rises behind them. "More. I think it spilled... Vi, I didn't know." Her voice is tight with pain and despair, grating haggardly against her throat.
Releasing her grip on Ronin's hand, the Shield falls back to her knees, still clutching the empty container through fingers that now tremble anew. "If the water from the Climb... is that why? Is it my fault that Deimos- and Finn. Remi. All of them..."
The epiphanies are not about to slow. Amalia's memories, her sanity, her thoughts, all are playing catch-up for their instability over the past week. Pieces falling slow and steady into place like dominoes, a picture she cannot quite see clearly unclouding in her mind. "The others had some, if they're sick-? Or are they? Is that what was wrong with him? There has to be somewhere, but it was so dry, how could water--?" She continues to talk, as much to herself as to Ronin, murmuring until it's nearly a babble, a stream of consciousness as she overloads.
The canteen has fallen by the wayside in her urgent recovery; now as she stoops to pick it up she can feel her stomach sinking. "I... there isn't," the Shield murmurs, closing her eyes as guilt and anger rises behind them. "More. I think it spilled... Vi, I didn't know." Her voice is tight with pain and despair, grating haggardly against her throat.
Releasing her grip on Ronin's hand, the Shield falls back to her knees, still clutching the empty container through fingers that now tremble anew. "If the water from the Climb... is that why? Is it my fault that Deimos- and Finn. Remi. All of them..."
The epiphanies are not about to slow. Amalia's memories, her sanity, her thoughts, all are playing catch-up for their instability over the past week. Pieces falling slow and steady into place like dominoes, a picture she cannot quite see clearly unclouding in her mind. "The others had some, if they're sick-? Or are they? Is that what was wrong with him? There has to be somewhere, but it was so dry, how could water--?" She continues to talk, as much to herself as to Ronin, murmuring until it's nearly a babble, a stream of consciousness as she overloads.
shield of safrin
